As my life sits on the precipice of a new beginning, it also sits on the very same edge of all that is soon to be a memory. And as I do this, as boxes of old photos have been gone through and all my belongings whittled down to what I want to keep and what I do not – I do so on the two-year anniversary of my father’s passing. I also do this while crafting my latest book; this blog published as daily meditations titled: The Way Forward.
We’re all tethered to something. Some of our own choosing. Some like a Gordian knot from which there is little escape. If ever to move forward we must first come to terms with our past. We must loosen the knot. And that is exactly what I’ve spent the last few years of my life doing. Now, I no longer feel at home in my house, but I feel at home within my soul. My mind has come to terms with who I am, and how I came to be.
Sitting next to my bed is my school portrait. I had, at best, six years under my belt when the photo was taken. And yet, those early years have been the foundation on which I’ve walked for the last forty-three. I’ve decided we both need new ground. We both need a new foothold and a new beginning. It is never too late to start again. And I feel within my being that this new chapter was predestined to begin when it has. I’m exactly where I need to be, exactly when I was meant to be here.
I have few regrets. Some, but not many. Any missteps I’ve taken have also provided me valuable insight, and for that I am grateful. I had to be present in those moments. We owe it to ourselves to be present in all moments. I would like to say that the joyful moments hold more value than those that feel crippling at the time. But in my heart I know it isn’t so. Often something within us must be broken, if ever it is to open. The heart needs to break, to finally open itself up to the life and love it was meant to have. Our ego must suffer the same for it to one day bow to the soul. Crippling moments are not set backs, they are moments when we are meant to break out of the old; to crack the thick walls, to allow something better in.
My hope is that I’m beginning the better half of my life; the half filled with more joy than pain; the half where I take all that I have learned and share it with others. I am now stepping fully into my life’s purpose; knowing all the while my purpose was to first live through all that I have. And from this moment on, I hope to be present, to feel what surrounds me. I’m going to slow down more, I’m going to savor more. I’m going to look deeper and wider. My father wished his life away, buried in discontent. He is happy now, and so am I. I wish him the very best with his next life. And in some manner of speaking, I’m sure we will meet again. But for the rest of mine, I plan on nestling in, and getting used to calmer waters. I want a canoe that floats easily down the middle of the river. I’m looking forward to that. And as always, I plan to share with you all that I learn and all that I see as I float the way forward – healed and happy – inquisitive, yet content.